


Visitors

by MushroomDoggo



Category: Flight Rising
Genre: Multi, Slice of Life, Some Humor, deity and npc fic
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-22
Updated: 2019-05-22
Packaged: 2020-03-09 19:24:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,949
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18923479
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MushroomDoggo/pseuds/MushroomDoggo
Summary: Being a Visitor--a deity who disguises themselves in order to "visit" their draconic kingdom--is largely frowned upon by a majority of Sornieth's reigning deities; one should either appear as themselves, or not at all.Two deities, however, disagree. Xhaztol, The Arcanist, and Ghurab, The Windsinger, know the merits of visiting Sornieth in disguise. And they will make sure the others do, too.





	Visitors

The afternoon sun shone through the eastern window, casting little rays of sunlight over my study. Every hanging crystal, every metallic tool, every glass bauble caught these rays of sunlight and threw them about the room in fractured sparkles. These bits of light were, just as quickly, swallowed up but the nooks and crannies of shadowed darkness which I kept carefully hidden. 

My visitor’s presence brought with it puffs of cloud and the slightest breeze, both of which caused the light to move and twinkle all the more.

“Th-thank you for meeting with me, M-Mr. Windsinger, sir.” My talons shook as I tried to fold them neatly in front of me. Which thumb went on top again? How tight should I fold them? Did I always sweat this much? Had I ever sweat at all?

“Ha! Mr. Windsinger was my father.” A hint of mischief sparkled in his eyes. “My friends call me Ghurab. Friendlier friends call me Rabby. Either is fine, Xhaz.”

I swallowed hard. Such easy familiarity. “R-right. Ghurab.”

He nodded kindly, though with some disappointment.

“I wanted to… well, I had some questions for you, I suppose.”

“Many do,” he mused, coiling himself up on my armchair. He grimaced as he tried to force his long, winding appendages into a comfortable position. “You have any bean bag chairs?”

I blinked. “I'm afraid I don't.”

He shrugged. “No trouble.” He sank into the chair, his scaled body slipping against the velvety armchair. His tail fell to the wood floor with a heavy thud. “What are your questions?”

I sighed, steadied myself. “I know we don't really talk.”

“Do any of us?”

“Touché.” 

“I’d like it if we did.”

“So would I…” I looked down, and began to pick at the stitching I my own chair. “I like to think that we have a lot in common. In terms of values. Do you… agree?”

Ghurab considered this thoughtfully, tilting his head back to gaze at my ceiling. Something about the shape of his jaw made it appear as though he always wore a slight mischievous smile, and the angle accentuated this. “I would say that, as far as our capacity to take the others seriously, we are fairly similar. Perhaps certain elements of curiosity and mischief resonate in the two of us, as well.”

I nodded. “I agree!” That was the easy part. “Now, I know that… Um. I know that you are a Visitor.”

Ghurab stiffened and leveled his gaze with mine. “Who told you that?”

“N-no one!” I assured him. “But I have taken notice of a certain, erm… spiral. On the Plateau? Who has attracted quite a bit of attention.”

Ghurab was very still as he looked at me, through me. He didn't even blink.

“S-sir?”

Ghurab's head tilted back, and he looked down his snout at me, considering what he should do or say.

“Sir, I--”

Unable to hold back any longer, Ghurab exploded into raucous laughter, throwing his head back with glee. I furrowed my brows, shifted in my chair, and watched as The Windsinger laughed himself silly in my armchair. In my study.

“Oh, Shade alive, I was wondering who would be the first to notice.” He delicately wiped away a tear with one claw. “My money was on Artaios, that historically-obsessed son-of-a-bitch.”

I forced an uncomfortable laugh. “The Earthshaker?”

Ghurab waved away the formal title. “Of course, of course. But… I'm thankful-- no, I'm glad it was you.”

Had my face not already been a deep shade of pink, I fear he may have seen me blush. “Thank you, sir.”

He nodded. “Being a Visitor is… well, it is frowned upon, to put it lightly. It is considered a gamble, for reasons which have never been explained to me in a manner I find satisfactory.” He writhed about in his seat a bit, his coils thumping onto the floor. "I mean, if Tharge is allowed to supervise his workers, and Undel is allowed to… I don't know, do whatever it is she does during Lunar Eclipse and whatnot, why shouldn't the rest of us be allowed to visit our children? Just because I do it in disguise shouldn't make it any less meaningful. In fact, I think being in disguise makes it mean all the more."

"I agree!" I sat up a little straighter, did my best to keep my excitedly flapping wings under control. "And th-that is precisely why I need your help."

"Ah! You want to be a Visitor, too?" Ghurab's coils wriggled with joy. He leapt off the armchair and was before me in an instant, gleefully examining my own glowing scales and mighty crest. "I could surely help you come up with a persona. First, we need to do something about these extra arms--"

I held up a claw to stop him. "No, actually. My trusted researchers and I have noticed something of a problem that we believe requires a… unique solution."

Ghurab sat back, coils curling under him to support his weight, and looked up at me with that playful little smirk. "I see. And just what might that problem be?"

I smirked back at him. “Perhaps we could discuss it over tea?”

~~~~~

Lightweaver's lair was anything but subtle. 

I have been accused of overcrowding my own space, sure-- but everything I kept had meaning and significance, and it all sat in an otherwise modest room. I found clutter comforting and helpful. I surrounded myself with useful tools, merry trinkets, and other delightful things which made me (and, indeed, any of my children) smile.

This building, however, was the furthest thing from comfort I could imagine. The place was built like a university, or a museum: vaulted ceilings, elaborately carved pillars, and expensive murals (which The Lightweaver likely hadn't paid a cent for) in every corner. Echoes of whispers around every corner, hushed academic prattle with no substance or depth. There were hundreds of stairs, but no place to sit. Blindingly bright surfaces with no shadow upon which to rest the eye. 

"For fuck's sake, Rhi-Rhi," Ghurab muttered to himself. Then, for the fun of it, he whistled one keen, clear note into the abyssal hall, and laughed at the sound of it. "Nice acoustics, though."

“Hush, Ghurab.”

"And what, pray tell, brings you to my place of study?" 

Ghurab and I froze and turned to face her: Rhiow, The Lightweaver.

She was a terrifying creature, to be sure, although she knew how to carry herself in such a way that one could forget the horror and see only beauty. Her wings, held away from her body just enough to show off their butterfly-like patterns, were large enough that I could have cloaked myself entirely in just one of them. Little tendrils rose from every point and crest of her form, each carrying its own tiny source of light. Even her long fingers and boney arms were poised just so-- it was difficult to see them as dangerous when they appeared so beautiful.

Her breath was steady. One of her long, rabbit-like ears twitched.

I looked to Ghurab for guidance. I had never so much as seen The Lightweaver in the flesh, let alone spoken to her.

Ghurab remained frozen for a moment. I could almost see the gears in his head spinning and grinding against one another.

“Little sis!” 

The exclamation of familiarity and friendship exploded forth from his chest so loudly and readily that it caused me to jump. The sound echoed through the building, scaring more than a few resting birds out of their hiding places.

Ghurab had thrown his arms wide, as if to hug, though it would have taken three dragons of his size to reach around The Lightweavers chest. “Rhiow, it’s been so long! You’re looking… large. How are the kids?”

She raised her head, a motion which must have required so much muscle that I could practically hear it. “Demonic and destructive.”

Ghurab’s arms fell back to his sides. “Of course.” He scratched his head, again trying to think of a way out. “You always look this huge in your, uh…” 

“In The Beacon of the Radiant Eye?” The Lightweaver rumbled.

“Th-the Beacon. Of course, right, The Beacon. It’s a beautiful, uh…” He looked around and took in the sights one more time. “Name. For a building.”

The Lightweaver rolled her eyes. “What brings you here, Ghurab? I have more important things to attend to than your usual mindless jabbering.”

Ghurab coughed. The sound called to mind that particular silence in a theatre before a performance begins, with one unexpected and unplanned outburst from an audience member. “Actually, that’s something our little brother, here, brought to my attention. Do you know the last time you had a vacation, by any chance?”

“Vacations are a foolish concept. I have not slept since the Second Age, and I don’t plan to again.”

Ghurab blinked. “That’s… chilling, sis.”

The Lightweaver growled.

“Let’s say… someone were to give you the opportunity to take a break. A nice long break. With room service and baths and naps?”

The Lightweaver tilted her head almost imperceptibly. “Room service?”

Ghurab waved the thought away with a claw. “Never mind the specifics. Wouldn’t you like the chance to relax?”

“I prefer my studies.”

“Fine, fine; wouldn’t you like the chance to pursue your studies… without any of those dang pearlcatchers nagging you to kill all those pesky Imperials?” He swallowed hard. “Or… whatever it is you argue about, politically, in the Sunbeam Ruins?”

The Lightweaver set her jaw. “No.”

“‘No’ you wouldn’t like that, or ‘no’ you don’t argue about politics in the Sunbeam Ruins? Because… I’ll be honest, I kinda thought that was your guys’ whole deal.” He laughed nervously. “Are you getting bigger, or is that just me?”

It was, indeed, just him.

The Lightweaver took a massive breath, one so forceful that I could feel its pull from my place on the floor below her. “No, I--unlike my reckless older brother--do not have any interest in taking time away from my duties to frolic on the hillsides and leaves my children without power and nourishment.” She took one thundering step towards us. “No, my studies are in no way a priority of mine, as they interfere in my ability to watch over the inhabitants of the Sunbeam Ruins.” Another step. “No, I do not feel the need to disappear the way Rhenik did.” Another step. “No, I am not interested in whatever scheme you have cooked up, because--” She leaned down, face-to-face with Ghurab. “--no, we do not have anything in common!”

Ghurab’s eyes had nearly bugged out of his head by the time The Lightweaver finished her speech. He seemed incapable of speaking, himself, and rather stood stiller than a statue before is “little” sister.

The Lightweaver heaved a mighty sigh, nearly blowing the two of us out the door, and her form began to shrink. “I am weary of this need to rest being projected onto me from all sides. My Council, my Advisors, now even my family seem to think that I cannot do as I have always done and rule. I can accept that some of you may believe you need…” She grit her teeth. “... time off, but for you to think you can wander into my lair and tell me how to rule over my citizens is crossing a line!”

Ghurab began to tilt his head, the smirk standing out in the overpowering ambient light.

The Lightweaver took Ghurab by both shoulders. “Think about your next move very carefully.”

“Xhaz?”

My entire body stiffened as The Lightweaver set her gaze on me. “Um… yes, Ghurab?”

“Hold her down.”


End file.
